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Michael McGuire
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Ordinary Vampires
I can't understand what the mirror is trying to tell me,
Am I trying to learn how to be seen or how to see,
I contain my rage until the steam seeps into my intake valve,
Then I use this engine grease like it was some kind of salve.
Infinite new blood; slow killers parade of transposed guilt,
Star teller; false embryo of castles unbuilt.
Not a smile; nor a kiss or a bite is what it seems,
In this city of more dreamers than dreams, Surviving on the confidence that you're an exception to the rule,
But that just makes you a somewhat wiser fool.
River wise bridges carry sperm bank donors hypothetical money,
Prostrate ecstasy; nazi night desire; vampire sucking honey.
So you try to screw yourself out of the grip of the paradise fist,
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End up on the true player's broken hearts black-list, And the moral of the story is this story never had any morals,
If you can wear the teeth marks you can wear the laurels.
Scripted blindness beautiful of the colorless unreal, Hands of savage medicine; touching how to feel.
In the cold galactic distance of a whisper,
The acid taste of hot breath and need,
I lift the veil and I turn her,
Somehow the doer gets trapped inside the deed.
Cracked mirror voodoo,
Wounded by the view,
But like a vampire at dawn,
I know I must be moving on.
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